Why Do You Guys Trust Me Again?
by OscuraAsheth
Summary: Throughout my Dragon Age Two play throughs, I always had conversations with my companions, in my head. So this is basically a retelling of Dragon Age Two, the way I thought it would've went down if Hawke really did take after me, which she should. Hawke's PoV. F!Mage Hawke. Hawke/Fenris. Crackfic.
1. Chapter 1

We've lived here for about year now, and so with confidence I can easily say:

Kirkwall. Sucks. Balls.

And yet here I am, trying to convince a dwarf to take my brother and me along to a deep roads expedition so that I can keep living in Gamlen's grody hovel instead of a prison.

Life. Is. Amazing.

Oh, shit. Carver's talking to me.

"My brother has a point, it's on his head, but it's still valid." I replied, it was a safe thing to say, I hadn't really been paying attention to the debate going on about getting Bartrand to take us along. Probably a stupid move, I mean the templars are after me and not Carver after all.

"Oh, Thanks for that, Sister." Carver said frowning at me.

Really, he should be used to this by now, "You're welcome, dear brother."

"Look, you need us. We've fought darkspawn before!" Carver said in vain attempt to add to the pros of bringing us along.

Bartrand snorted, "You're looking for an easy way out of the slums, right? You and every other Ferelden in this dump. Find another meal ticket."

Bartrand scampered off on his short stumpy legs.

"Well, I guess we're back to waiting for someone to turn us in to the templars." Carver sighed.

"What are you worried about? Even if we get turned in to the templars it's not you who'll be dragged off to the circle. It's me." I said sighing.

"Did I really sound that bad? Maker, I'm turning into Gamlen…" Carver replied, "Gamlen! Gamlen has a head for this garbage, maybe he can talk to Bartrand or something. After last week we'll need all the help and coin we can get."

"You'd really trust our favourite uncle for this?" I asked him with an eyebrow raised, "I mean, you're bound to catch more flies with honey. Though, I suppose you're right. Gamlen's bullshit did get us into the city after all."

We started heading back to Lowtown when someone rather purposefully bumped into me.

And my purse just got snatched.

Best. Day. Ever.

We chased after him, and as we rounded the corner, we were greeted to the sight of a dwarf pulling an arrow out of the thief's shoulder after taking my purse from him.

I felt my face scrunching in annoyance for a brief second. Now what?

The dwarf made his way to me, twirling the arrow in his fingers as he tossed my coin purse back to me.

Damn. That's a lot of chest hair.

"Varric Tethras, at your service. You'll have to excuse my brother, he wouldn't see a good opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw." He said.

"Huh, maybe we should try punching him elsewhere then." I commented.

"And you would?" Carver asked Varric rolling his eyes.

"Of course, what he doesn't realize is that we need someone like you. He's probably too proud to admit it. I, however, am more practical." Varric stated.

"So you're part of this expedition then?" I asked.

"That's right, normally the deep roads wouldn't be my thing, but I can't let the head of our family go down there alone. So as you can see, I have more than a passing interest in its success." He replied.

How do dwarves stand talking to humans? Don't their necks hurt?

"What makes you so certain we're the right people for you to go to? You don't even know us." I asked narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

"Quite the contrary actually, serving with the Red Iron is no mean feat – And you not only served: you impressed," He said, "the name 'Hawke' is on many lips these days."

"Which Hawke? I hope it's my brother. I don't think I need even more people knowing I'm a mage." I said frowning and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Unfortunately, I've only heard a little talk about your brother. It's you they mostly speak of messere." Varric shook his head.

"Of course." Carver sighed rolling his eyes.

"You can certainly bring him along if you want, but I'll leave that up to you." Varric nodded at me.

"Oh, I'm going, without this we won't last out the year." Carver frowned.

"You're going awfully out of your way to just to hire another guard." I raised a brow at him.

"Not another guard. What we need is a partner," Varric grinned, "Truth is: Bartrand's been tearing his beard out to fund this expedition. Fifty sovereigns and he can't refuse. Not with me to vouch for you."

"Bartrand's been tearing out his beard? Are you sure he wasn't tearing out yours?" I commented.

I mean, he did lack a beard. In my book that was fair game.

"Bartrand doesn't seem the type to split profits" Carver cut in quickly.

"Bartrand is anything but stupid, trust me, you get the coin and he'll give you a full share," Varric replied with a chuckle, "better to split profits than be stuck down in an abandoned thaig with a thousand darkspawn standing between you and the exit."

"Fair point," I replied, "so, how exactly am I supposed to get that much coin?"

"You need to think big, there's only a brief window after a blight when the deep roads aren't crawling with darkspawn." Varric replied.

"Look, you started this," Carver said glancing at me, "and the dwarf makes some sense. No offense. And it's better than waking up in the Gallows."

"You work together you and I, and before you know it, you'll have all the capital you need, what do you say?"

"Well, it's not like I really had anything better planned." I shrugged.

"Kirkwall's usually crawling with work, set a few coin aside from every job and you'll be there in no time."

"Easier said than done," Carver frowned, "Wait, maybe Aveline's got some bounties out, she's joined the city guard right?"

"Sounds like you have a plan. We should talk privately some time, in the Hanged Man, I'll be there when I'm not with you," Varric replied, "Now, let's see what trouble we can stir up."

Ha ha ha. If there is anything I'm good at, it's stirring up trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

We made our way through Hightown towards the Viscount Keep. Why they let me lead I have no idea. Carver should know by now that my sense of direction is the stuff of legends.

"You know Junior, it's eerie how much you two resemble each other." Varric said to Carver as we neared the keep.

"She's my sister, of course there's a resemblance." Carver replied.

"Oh, you thought I was talking about Hawke, I meant Gamlen." Varric snorted.

"You know, he has a point there." I added.

"Maker, I hate you dwarf." I heard Carver sigh.

We climbed the stairs up to the courtyard, ran through the courtyard, and ran up more stairs to the keep.

As much as I hated getting here, I had to admit: that door is shiny.

I lowered my gaze to my left hand for a brief second, making an 'L' with it before running up the stairs and to the right.

Can't let anyone know I'm THAT directionally impaired. That'd be bad.

We ran through the door and down the stairs and there she was: Aveline.

I was quite fond of Aveline. Throughout this year we've helped each other and kept up to date with each other, and to me she seemed like an older sister. A responsible older sister, probably someone I should strive to be. So that Carver's pride doesn't take more damage that it already has. But where's the fun in that?

"Aveline!" I said grandly throwing my arms open.

"Hello, Hawke." She replied staring at the duty roster.

"What? That's it?" I pouted.

Huh, so that's what it feels like when your older sister doesn't give you the attention you want. Duly noted. To be honest though, if it wasn't for the bulky shield on her back, I'd probably have just running jump hugged her.

She would have probably punched me for doing that though.

"What? Oh, sorry Hawke, it feels like we've just talked," Aveline said turning to me, "I've been keeping an eye on you. Information's one of the few perks of this job. Watch out for Bartrand though, he's a son of a bitch."

"Hey, Varric, is your Mom a bitch?" I asked turning towards Varric.

He gave a snort of laughter before responding with, "No."

"I guess he's not a son of a bitch then." I stated.

"Hawke, you know what I mean." Aveline frowned at me.

I snickered mentally.

"You know I don't like you having people watch me," I frowned, "it feels like you don't trust me."

"Saves me from camping on your doorstep," She shrugged, "and after what it took to get us here. Let's just say I don't want to lose track of you. With the places they have me patrolling, I've got time."

"Well then, a person in your position sounds like they'd eavesdrop some profitable work." I grinned at her.

"You know better than to ask me that." Aveline frowned again.

"One day you'll get frustrated enough to go for it." I sighed.

"I feel like I'm sitting on my hands," Aveline frowned, "Maker knows I could use some satisfying work."

"The blight's over, you could go back to Lothering," I said tilting my head to the side slightly.

"That wasn't home for me, it was just where the horde pressed us," she replied, "it wasn't the first village I saw fall, but you just don't get used to seeing people leave everything."

"I'll admit that's not how I wanted to leave." I replied solemnly.

Oh, Bethany. I tried not to think of her, of the ogre attack much. It still hurt that it was her that died and not me. Bethany was such a sweet girl, she was the best sister a girl could ever ask for. We did almost everything together, from helping Mother, learning about magic from Father, to talking about boys and other random such things. Though, I did feel a bit bad about leaving Carver out. But I doubt he'd have wanted to get involved in 'girl-talk.'

"That's the thing about growing up: you can't go home again," Aveline shrugged, "but it's not the same if you don't have the option."

"It really isn't." I frowned.

Carver and Varric apparently got bored of the conversation I was having and were chatting to each other.

Sorry Carver, but Aveline's MY older sister. You can't have her. Go get your own. Oh, wait.

"Seems like Kirkwall suits you." I said looking around the barracks.

"It's been a challenge," Aveline nodded, "lot's of opportunity, if you're the type the locals want."

"Are you?"

"If you argue enough, you kind of convince yourself." She responded.

"It's been a year now, how are you feeling about…?" I asked delicately.

"How close I hold my own memories, is my own business." She gave me that _stop-babying-me _look

"Being a guard must have a different pace than serving under King Cailan." I said tilting my head again.

"There's a new king for a new Ferelden. Seems cocksure, but I guess he was there when the archdemon fell, can't fault an active hand." Aveline shrugged, "the real end for me was Ostagar. What about you Carver? Did you feel that way?"

Carver jumped a bit at hearing her call his name, "No."

"All right then," Aveline said turning back to me, "Bit of a tit your brother."

"Tell me about it." I sighed.

"You know, I might just have a job for you, if you're interested." She said leaning against the wall.

"Oh?" the word job easily piqued my interest.

Then again, most things piqued my interest.

"An ambush, probably for a caravan, though I can't find any shipments that match up," she stated, "doesn't matter though, Highway men looking to rob, I'm putting a stop to it, my district or not."

"Do we have a 'who' behind this?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter, we show up, they attack, they're bad," she said, "simple as that."

"How did you get wind of this anyway?" I pursed my lips together slightly.

"I have contacts, they've been complaining, about a lack of meat – thugs and such, someone's hiring," she shrugged, "and one or two were told to be prepared for travelers. You want to be good at this job you pay attention to what's missing, and when people prepare escape routes."

"Well, sounds like fun, where are we headed?" I asked.

"I knew I could trust you," she smiled, "it's up Sundermount, remote and rough, we can save time with a short cut this side. And no, you can't go by yourself. I trust you, but I need to be there, you're acting on behalf of the guard."

"You trust me?" I asked dubiously.

"Oh shut up Hawke," she sighed, "just tell me when you're ready to head up there."

"Now sounds like a good time, not like I have anything else to do." I shrugged.

The four of us left Kirkwall and headed up Sundermount.

The trek made me hate having a wimpy mage body; luckily, I wasn't as out of shape as other mages. Living on a farm and working for mercenaries does that for you. Still doesn't mean I'm in as much shape as the other three.

Wait. Come to think of it…Why am I still leading? How have we not ended up back in Ferelden yet? What is going on? These people are crazy.

We rested for a bit as we neared the ambush site, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to run into a bunch of people who want to kill your face while you're tired after all.

Sneaking up a small hill, we could see a small group of stragglers.

And before any plan of attack was made I jumped off the hill and threw a fireball while the others scrambled to get into position to attack.

Most of them cussing at me horridly as they did so, I could feel the love.

"Do you think you could give us a bit of warning next time, Sister?" Carver glared after the fight.

"What?" I said innocently, "I did warn you!"

"When did you—"

"The fireball was my warning!"

This earned a sigh from both Carver and Aveline. Varric just gave a snort of laughter.

We cut through two more smaller groups— correction, we cut and blasted through two more smaller groups of stragglers before sneaking up a hill to see the main group.

Aveline and Carver had their hands on my shoulders to make sure I didn't jump off the hill again. Spoilsports.

"That looks like the bulk of the smugglers." Aveline said quietly.

"We'd best tread carefully." Carver said.

"Uh, guys? Where's Hawke?" Varric suddenly asked.

"Oh, Maker!" they sighed in unison.

"What?" I asked from at the bottom of the hill, "can we attack now? Yes? No? Yes? No? Yes? Well, ready or not!"

Fireball time.

They charged in before I could throw the damn thing though. I clicked my tongue. Why are they in such a hurry?

"Well equipped for bandits," Aveline said examining the bodies after the fight, "Just as well, dead is dead and the road is clear. Captain Jevan will want to hear about this. Back to the barracks for your just reward!"


	3. Chapter 3

"There's not much room in the barracks, but there's no where I'd rather be." Aveline stated as we ran down the stairs on our way to Captain Jevan's office.

"Really? No where? What about Gamlen's Grody Hovel?" I asked.

"There's Jevan's office. Wait here while I go explain the situation." Aveline sighed.

I watched her walk through the door, closing it behind her as I leaned against the wall next to the door. From the sounds of things, it looks like Captain Jevan didn't appreciate our efforts to keep the city safe. Weird.

"What a kind considerate and caring Captain you have there, Aveline." I nodded to her after she slammed the door open exiting Jevan's office with a distinct 'bang.'

"I don't have to like him, he's just my boss," Aveline grumbled, "but he could at least listen. Bandits are dead and that's all that should matter. This isn't the first time he's made me wonder like this…"

"Sounds like a mystery! Whose toes did we actually step on anyway?" I asked.

"I'm not sure, let's check the duty roster and see who was supposed to take that route," Aveline sighed, "Maker, what have I stepped in this time?"

"Aveline!" another guard called out to her as we examined the duty roster, "I owe you for clearing that ambush the other night."

"Brennan, that was your route?" Aveline asked diplomatically.

"It was. Single patrol," Brennan said, "I'd have been dead for sure."

"A single guardsman doesn't seem like much of a patrol to me, especially outside of Kirkwall." I frowned.

"It shouldn't need to be. That route had been clear for weeks," Brennan stated, "First noise out of it was your big fight. The Captain reassigned me after he heard about what you did, and asked me to pass the satchel to Donnic for his patrol tonight."

"The satchel?" I asked.

"Pay and order assignments. Captain has us running deliveries to the outposts during light duty," Brennan explained, "it's usually just an updated copy of the roster, but the satchel was pretty heavy that night. Anyway, I owe you one. Thanks again Aveline."

"So, the satchel gets heavy the same day we discover an ambush." Aveline frowned and turned to the duty roster.

"Dun dun dunnn," I said ominously, "the plot thickens! Anyway, are you sure you want to meddle here? I mean it's your superior we're talking about."

"If a guard has been put at risk, a good captain would want to know why," Aveline said looking at me over her shoulder, "and if he's not a good captain, I want to know why."

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable lie to explain all of this." I added helpfully.

"I'd be willing to hear it, but not when a guard might be walking into a trap," Aveline said turning her head back to the roster, "Brennan said Donnic…a good man Donnic…I've got his route."

"Hey, Aveline, since I'm helping you play guard like this," Carver butt in, "can you ask them to accept my application into the guard?"

"No," Aveline replied, "I've got his route, a night walk in Lowtown. Let's go make sure his quiet patrol stays that way."

"Well, if it's a night walk, it sounds like Carver and I will have time to pop into GAMLEN'S GRODY HOVEL and say 'hello' to Mother," I said glancing up at the ceiling, "and I guess Gamlen too."

"How about we meet outside the Hanged Man at sunset then?" Varric offered.

"As long as you'll be there, to look for Donnic before something happens, I don't care." Aveline said.

"Perfect! Everyone except Carver dismissed!" I said flinging my arms out, "Carver, my dear brother, we're going back to our LOVELY home."

"Great." Carver grunted.

Before we had even managed to get inside the hovel, we could hear Mother arguing with Gamlen again.

"My children have been in servitude! Servitude!" Mother started, "for a year! They should be nobility!"

"If wishes were poppy, we'd all be dreaming." Gamlen retorted.

"What? I'm not dreaming?" I asked and pinched my own cheek, "Huh, I guess you're right. This is real. Damn."

"And here I thought that Ferelden you ran off with was a mage, not a jester," Gamlen rolled his eyes, "your mother was supposed to marry the Comte de Launcet, but ran off with some Ferelden apostate, you don't get to stay the favorite when you do that."

"Hey! That's our Father you're talking about!" Carver glared.

"Where is Father's will? If I could just see it—" Mother pleaded.

"It's not here all right? It was read it went into the vault," Gamlen glared, "no one needed to look at it again."

"I know the Amells were nobles, but you haven't said much else about them." I said to Mother.

"The Amells have been a noble family in Kirkwall since Garahel drove out the Fourth Blight," Mother said turning to me, "But we've always had magic in our blood. I think that's what hurt your grandparents the most; I was bringing more magic into our bloodline not less."

"Did grandfather mention Mother in his will at all?" I asked Gamlen.

"Our father died when you were still in pinafores girl, you can hardly expect me to remember at all." Gamlen replied.

"Oh, of course not. Why should you do something reasonable?" Carver rolled his eyes.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at Gamlen. Something was off. That was a fact. Gamlen was trying to weasel out of this. You're not getting out of this while I'm here, dear uncle.

"Well, that certainly touched a nerve," I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously, "what's in there that you don't want us to see?"

"Nothing!" Gamlen said throwing his arms up, "but you won't be seeing the bloody thing. It's still locked up on the estate, and that's long out of my hands."

"Uh-huh, because why would you ever keep a will around for future reference?" I said rolling my eyes.

"It was old news," Gamlen glared, "you think I've been sitting around here for twenty-five years waiting for Leandra to slink back?"

"Who bought the estate Gamlen?" Mother cut in, "was it the Reinhardts? If I could just speak to them…"

"No one you know," Gamlen said defensively, "get used to Lowtown, that's where we're going to stay."

"Maker, I don't know how to feel about this," Carver said approaching me after the argument, "I want to make things better for Mother, but some of the things Gamlen said, it makes it hard for me to hate him. I mean, being stuck in someone's shadow left to take care of your parents? That's no way to live."

"Varric really was right, you really do resemble Gamlen." I commented.

"Look, if you want to join the fight over who lost the most, fine," Carver sighed, "but I've never lived here. Mother even gave me her old key to try and stir something up, but who are the Amells to me anyway? Finding Grandfather's will doesn't matter to me."

"Maybe we should find a connection then, hmmm?" I replied and then frowned, "why would she give the key to you and not me?"

"Probably because you'd lose it," Carver replied, "and find a connection to what? The once mighty Amells? A bunch of slavers are squatting on that dusty glory."

"Slavers?" I asked tilting my head.

"Dear Uncle Gamlen's a chatty drunk, that's who he signed it over to," he sighed, "Gamlen was neck deep in debt so he handed it over to them. The most extensive wine cellar in Kirkwall is now a slave highway from the Undercity. That's our family legacy."

"Well, that can't be allowed to continue." I replied.

"And what would happen if we stopped it? We still aren't important enough to actually live in the place." Carver sighed again.

"Let's set small goals first, dear." I said.

"All right; tell you what: if the key works we'll clear it out from the Undercity up," Carver said turning to me, "and if it doesn't, then oh well."

"Sounds like a plan," I nodded, "we should also probably meet up with Aveline and Varric now about Donnic's patrol."


	4. Chapter 4

"Donnic's patrol should be near here." Aveline said as we ran around the moonlit streets of Lowtown.

"Hey look! An ambush on a lone guard!" I said as we came to a space between buildings, I threw a fireball as soon as I had a good enough vantage.

Best to draw their attention away from the downed guard, though, in hindsight, making myself a target was a pretty bad idea. Luckily Carver and Aveline rushed ahead into the mess of burning enemies. Oh, I hope I didn't hit Donnic. That'd be bad.

"Who…Ave…Aveline?" Donnic said after the fight as Aveline helped him to his feet, "Maker, you're a beautiful sight."

"Guardsman?" she replied smiling.

"I mean…uh…" Donnic stuttered, "I was on patrol, and there was an ambush, I took a few down but there were too many at once. The captain said this route was supposed to be quiet."

Ohhhhh… Cute.

I knelt down to sift through the dropped satchel, Carver hovering over my shoulder as I sorted through it.

"The seal of the viscount. Office details, city accounts." Carver said as I sorted through the mess.

"Valuable to a guild of thieves," I nodded, "forget Guard Captain, this man should be in government."

"Not now Hawke," Aveline was definitely angry, "a sacrificial delivery with one of our own. Captain Jevan will answer. This goes to the office of the viscount. This will be known."

"We'll they're probably asleep or something right now," I said stretching my arms, "why don't you two head back to the barracks for now, and us three will check up on you tomorrow morning?"

"All right Hawke," Aveline said taking the satchel from me, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

We watched her stomp away, yep, she really was angry.

"So, uh, Hawke," Varric started, "what do you think about a drink at the Hanged Man? You, me, and Junior, before we call it a day."

"Only if you're buying." I replied.

"Of course." Varric nodded.

"Alright, Varric," I said turning to him after we managed to get Carver safely distracted, "what did you want to talk about?"

"Here's the thing, we need to find a way into the Deep Roads," Varric said pacing in front of the fire place in his suite in the Hanged Man, "Bartrand can lead us where we want to go once we get down there, but we need a good entrance."

"What? You didn't have an entrance already? How were you expecting to get down there?" I blurted out.

"Bartrand had an entrance lined up but it was a bust." Varric sighed.

"Any entrance would do, though, wouldn't it? Unless there's a spider nest in it, I suppose." I said shuddering.

"What? The magnificent Hawke is afraid of spiders?" Varric said grinning.

"I wouldn't be grinning if I were you," I huffed, "what will YOU do when we're ambushed by spiders and I'm rendered useless?"

"Good point." he replied shaking his head.

"So, what are we going to do about this whole entrance thing?" I asked watching start to pace back and forth again.

"We need an entrance that's close to our destination, but isn't already plundered or filled with darkspawn," he said stopping to look at me again, "fortunately, I've received some new information: there's a Grey Warden in the city, if anyone knows how to get down there, it'd be him."

"What's a Grey Warden doing here?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"Who knows, anyway, the word is that he came in with some other Ferelden refugees not long ago. A Lowtown woman named Lirene has been helping the Ferelden, we talk to her, we learn where he is." Varric nodded.

"Sound's like you have this all planned out then." I grinned.

I rather enjoyed not having to come up with a plan myself.

"And that, messere, is why I'm here." He bowed.

"We'll check it out after we see what trouble Aveline's stirred up in the keep then," I said yawning, "I think it's time to go collect my brother and head home."

"Alright Hawke, I'll see you in the morning." Varric said as I left his room.

"How dare you! I am guard captain! I won't be treated like this!" I heard Jevan shouting as Varric, Carver, and I neared the barracks, "Ferelden bitch! This was none of your affair! I'll see you hanged! Quartered! This will not stand!"

We had to step aside as two guards dragged the struggling former guard captain away, still shouting obscenities.

Aveline was grinning. A good sign, the seneschal was with her so we eavesdropped on their conversation while we waited for a good time to ambush her. It was only fair; she has people watch me all the time. I should be allowed to eavesdrop on her important conversations too.

"We found a number of debts to…suspect peoples. Such poor character." The seneschal sighed.

"Hey, do you think he's a friend of Gamlen's?" I whispered to Carver.

Carver and Varric had to hold a hand over their mouths to stop their bark of laughter.

"But you, Aveline Vallen, have proven your loyalty, and ability." the seneschal continued.

"The guard deserves better than him messere." Aveline replied.

"Indeed," the seneschal agreed, "The viscount would have you put your care for the men into direct practice. You will assume the captain's job."

"What?" Aveline asked surprised.

"Why's she surprised?" Varric whispered, "I mean the rest of the guards are probably scared shitless of her anyway, who else could be guard captain?"

I bit the back of my hand to keep from laughing. Carver was holding his abdomen with his hand on the wall to keep him standing as his body shuddered from the laughter he was holding back.

"In due time, of course. There will be training, approvals. Months, at least," the seneschal continued, "but who better to rebuild the respect than the woman who exposed this…embarrassment. Resolve any outstanding business, Guardswoman. You will be very busy."

We quickly straightened up and tried to look as normal as possible as we heard the seneschal leaving the captain's office. After he walked past us we walked into her office, grinning at her.

"So, Aveline, what would you say about petitioning the viscount to help me claim ownership of the Hanged Man?" Varric asked.

"Varric, no." Aveline's smile was gone now.

"It'll be easy! You're the guard captain," Varric replied, "or you will be at least."

"I'm not petitioning the viscount to help you steal ownership of the Hanged Man." Aveline frowned.

"Steal? Madam, you wound me!" Varric cried in mock hurt.

"I'm about to." Aveline said narrowing her eyes at him and pointing at the door.

"Fine, fine, come get me when you're done congratulating the captain Hawke," Varric said as he started back out the door, "I'm being sent to the corner."

"So guard captain, will you approve of my application to join the guard now?" Carver asked.

"No." Aveline sighed.

"Why not? We were both soldiers, why won't you let me join?" Carver frowned.

"Because you seem tired of following orders," Aveline glared at him, "and that's dangerous."

"But—." Carver started.

"Out." Aveline said and pointed to the door again.

"I guess I'll be the blasted corner with Varric." Carver muttered walking through the door.

"Not even half an hour as guard captain and people are already trying to walk all over you, I see." I said glancing outside the office at the both of them standing around dejectedly.

"Tell me about it," Aveline sighed and leaned against the desk, "big changes are coming, huh? Captain of the guard. Thank you, Wesley."

"That you keep his memory, speaks well of him." I said diplomatically.

I refuse to be sent to the stupid corner, best play it safe.

"He's not with me. I know that. Wesley's at the Maker's side, or he's not," Aveline said giving me a sad smile, "either way, he knows no pain. What I keep is that moment. I won't let anyone down like that again,"

"At the Maker's side or he's not?" I asked raising my brow.

"Wesley believed. If he was right, then that's where he'll be," Aveline replied, "But… this business of "the less the Maker does, the more He's proven"? I don't find that compelling."

"I don't really find it all that compelling either," I nodded, "but you did marry a templar."

"I married a man," Aveline corrected me, "a good one, and he's gone. I have heard the chant, and it is lovely. Perhaps that's all it needs to be."

"I suppose so," I agreed, "whatever soothes the soul right?"

"Yes." Aveline agreed with a small laugh.

"I never asked this but…Do you blame me? For Wesley's death?" I asked tentatively.

"I did. I didn't want to, I knew why it had to be done, and so did Wesley," Aveline admitted, "but in my heart, that cut was cruel."

"I understand, I'd probably feel the same it I was in your position," I frowned slightly, "I could get used to having the law on my side though."

"You'll behave yourself, is what you'll do," Aveline said giving me a stern look, "I just sent Jevan to prison over corruption. I won't go the same road."

"You never let me have any fun!" I pouted.

"I think that's best for everyone." Aveline stated.

"Well, whatever, I'm proud of you," I huffed, "I look forward to working with you, Guard Captain Aveline."

"Still strange isn't it? Captain of the Guard," Aveline smiled, "thank you for helping me get here, Hawke. It's where I should be."

"Time to go collect the losers from their corner then, I think Varric had some leads dealing with the Deep Road's expedition. I'll see you later, Aveline." I said smiling at her brightly.


	5. Chapter 5

I dropped fifty silver into the collections box in Lirene's Ferelden Imports before walking up to the woman in charge assuming she was Lierene.

"If you're seeking aid, leave your name with my girl," she said as I walked to her, crossing her arms over her chest, "nobody came from Ferelden without trouble. But I'm not giving priority to anyone who already has work and lodging."

"Actually, I'm looking for someone," I started, "I hear that you know where I can find a Ferelden Grey Warden."

"The only Ferelden Grey Wardens I've heard of are the ones sitting on the throne," Lirene frowned knitting her brows together, "we're out of the Blight's path, why would you need a Warden?"

"The healer was one of them once, wasn't he? A Warden?" A woman spoke up beside me.

"Well, he's not now," Lirene glared at her, "and he's busy enough without answering fool questions about it."

"Then I suppose I should start up a list of only smart questions." I replied blankly,

"I do not joke, serah," Lirene frowned, "you see what our people face in Kirkwall? No jobs, no homes, some can barely buy bread. This healer serves them without thought for coin. He's closed their wounds, delivered their children, helped them in any way he could."

"Then why does he need to hide?" I asked.

"He's a good man, and I won't lose him to the blighted templars." Lirene stated.

Ah. Templars. So he's a mage.

"Oh, perish the thought. Another delicate mage flower." Carver said rolling his eyes.

Oh Carver, how you never let me down.

"He doesn't want to be locked in the Gallows just for using the gifts the Maker gave him." Lirene glared.

"I can hardly blame him, I wouldn't want to be either." I nodded.

As much as I complain about Gamlen's Grody Hovel, I'd much rather be there and free, than kept in a gilded cage.

"I suppose it's not my secret to keep," Lirene sighed, "Anders has certainly been free with his services. Refugee's in Darktown know: to find the healer, look for the lit lantern. If you have need enough, Anders will be within."

Only if you have need enough? Who's inside when you don't have enough need? I'll keep these thoughts to myself before I get punched in the face or something.

"Thank you." I told Lirene before turning to leave. I stopped by the collection box and threw in another fifty silver before walking out the door.

"Hey, we heard you in there, asking about the healer," an angry voice said as a group of men confronted us outside, "we know what happens to mages in this city."

"You want him safe? Don't pick fights with other Fereldens while the templars are after us all!" Carver shot back angrily.

Ah yes, thank you for shouting the fact that we're harboring a mage to the entire Lowtown district, Carver.

"Ferelden? But… You, your clothes…" the man said shocked, "I figured you for a Kirkwaller. Sorry. Maker bless the rule of our King Alistair."

"Right, now that we know where what's-his-face is, what do we want to do?" I asked, "Carver and I need to visit our former estate and kill some slavers and grab some things that Gamlen left behind. And the entrance to that is also in the Undercity."

"I don't care, lead away, Sister." Carver said.

"I'm easy." Varric replied.

I knitted my brows together. Really? _How am I ever supposed to get out of your big fat shadow Sister?! What? You're giving me a chance to lead?! I don't want to!_ I sighed, and started on the way to Darktown. I'll figure it out as we go along I guess.

We wandered through Undercity, people shouting angrily at us as walked on, trudging through the grime and muck.

"This is it," Carver said pointing at a ladder, "that should be the entrance to the estate."

"And that's the lit lantern." Varric said pointing at the lantern hanging above the door to our right.

"I guess we'll talk to the Warden first then." I said moving towards the door and pushing it open.

As we walked inside, a blonde mage was standing over a boy laid out on a table. What I guessed were the boy's parents looked on anxiously as the mage worked healing magic. Shiny.

"I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation," he said turning to us quickly grabbing his staff, "why do you threaten it?"

"What?" I asked dumbfounded, "I didn't realize I was threatening your sanctum by WALKING INSIDE."

"Are you the Gray Warden?" Carver asked throwing a hand over my mouth muffling my voice as I muttered more unkind words, "Sorry about my Sister, she's kind of…weird."

I bit his hand, and glared at him, "WEIRD?! That's the best you can come up with? Really, Carver?"

"Unique?" Varric offered.

"Hmm," I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, "still a bit dull but I guess it works."

"Did the Wardens send you to bring me back?" Anders said clearing his throat, "tell them I'm not going. Those bastards made me get rid of my cat. Poor Ser Pounce-a-lot. He hated the Deep Roads."

"You had a cat named Ser Pounce-a-lot in the Deep Roads?" I asked raising a brow.

"He was a gift! A noble beast," Anders pouted, "from the Hero of Ferelden too!"

"The Hero of Ferelden gave you a cat?" I asked staring at him blankly.

"Yes, she was in Amaranthine doing Warden Commander business," Anders said, "she's the one that made me a Warden too, in fact, she used the right of conscription on me when templars were trying to take me back to the circle."

"Right," I said, I wasn't sure whether or not I believed him, "so if the Hero of Ferelden is the one who gave you the cat, then why'd the Wardens tell you to give it away?"

"She had to go back to being the Queen of Ferelden. So, while she was gone they said that he 'made me too soft' and I had to give him away to another friend in Amaranthine." Anders frowned.

"So you came to Kirkwall to escape the Wardens," I said trying to get this straight in my head, "because they made you get rid of your cat?"

"You say that like it's a small thing," Anders replied, "yes, I'm here because there's no Warden outpost, no darkspawn, and a whole host of refugees to blend in with, as well as some other reasons of my own."

"Right, so," I started grabbing Varric by the arm away from his talk with Carver, "we're" I gestured to the both of us, "part of an expedition to the Deep Roads. Any insight you can give us will save a lot of lives."

"I will die a happy man if I never have to think of the Deep Roads again," Anders frowned, "you can't imagine what I've come through to get here. I'm not interested…"

Ahhh there it was. The _I'll help you, but only because I need you to help me with something_ look.

"A favor for a favor," Anders said interrupting himself, "does that sound like a fair deal? You help me, I'll help you?"

"Let's be more specific," I said rubbing my temples, "I don't do anything involving children or spiders. Fuck spiders. If there are spiders involved I'll rip your head off."

"I have a Warden map of the depths in this area. But there's a price," Anders said pacing in front of me, "I came to Kirkwall to aid a friend, a mage, a prisoner in the wretched Gallows. The templars learned of my plans to free him. Help me bring him safely past them and you shall have your maps."

I frowned greatly, "if I end up stuck in the gilded cage, I will rip your head off."

"If we fight templars, it's because they decide that anyone who befriends a mage deserves death without questioning." Anders stated.

"Doesn't fighting them prove their point? We don't need to give them more reasons to hunt us." Carver argued.

"These of my terms," Anders said sternly, "if you want my aid with your expedition, meet me in the chantry tonight. I sent word to Karl to be there. Maker willing, we'll all leave free men."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait," I said raising a hand, "didn't you say they knew of your plans to free him? Doesn't that mean they'll know to be there?"

"We have to try." Anders replied stubbornly.

"Alright, fine," I said and turned to Carver placing my hands on his shoulders, "we'll go clear out the estate, and then we'll go home. Varric, Anders, and I will go to the chantry tonight. I need you to stay with Mother."

"What? I should come with you!" Carver glared at me, "if anyone should stay with Mother, it's you!"

"I'm the one they're making the partner, I'm the one that needs to see this done," I sighed, "but I need you to not be with me when this goes down. If there are templars there, and there probably will be, someone will need to take care of Mother while I'm stuck in a gilded cage."

Maker be damned I hate when I have to be responsible.

"Fine," Carver huffed, "let's go clear out the damned estate."

The three of us entered the Undercity entrance to the estate, roaming around and killing groups of slavers as we looked for the vault. I hated to say this, but, thank god there were slavers here and not spiders. We managed to clear our way up to the vault fairly easily. I stopped to stare at the adornment above the door to the vault.

Sadness filled the pit of my stomach then. An ogre head was hung over the door in a threatening manner.

…Bethany…

I shook my head quickly to banish the thoughts and continued on; we searched around and finally found the documents we were after. Along with some family letters that I took along with me, they looked like they were written for Father, and there was no doubt I'd want to take a look at them later.

"…so, blood's blood and all but you are taking advantage of my hospitality," we heard Gamlen say as we entered the hovel, "it's only fair if you make something of a… monthly contribution—"

"You sold my children into servitude," Mother retorted angrily, "and now you're asking me to pay rent?"

"Er… Maybe just put something towards food?" Gamlen said shrinking slightly.

"You should be paying us, Uncle," I said raising my brow at him and frowning, "we found the will."

"Grandfather left everything to Mother and us," Carver said looking down at the documents, "I guess he had some sense after all."

He passed them to Mother.

"Don't worry though, Gamlen," I said smiling sweetly, "you're still my favorite Uncle."

Well it was true, I mean, he's my only Uncle.

"Er…ah…I should…" Gamlen said looking around for an escape.

"Gamlen how could you?" Mother said after reading the will.

"You're the one who ran away, Leadnra," Gamlen shot back, "what happened to 'love is so much more important than money?'"

"It is!" Mother shouted.

"You didn't even come home for the funeral!" Gamlen accused.

"The twins were a week old!" Mother shot back.

"We all have our burdens," Gamlen retorted, "mine was looking after a life you abandoned. How long was I supposed to wait? I took care of Father. I stayed! And on his deathbed, all he could talk about was…Leandra."

I could feel waves of sympathy being emitted from Carver who was standing next to me. Kindred spirits indeed.

"Look, Sister," Gamlen said, "I shouldn't have done it, but I did. And there's nothing I can do to get it back."

"I don't expect that, Gamlen," Mother replied lowering her tone, "it's enough knowing that Mother and Father didn't die angry, I'll petition the viscounts for rights to reclaim the estate. Maker willing, you'll have your house back within weeks."

"You don't have the coin or standing to even get an audience with the viscount," Gamlen said rubbing his forehead, "you've got to be someone in this city to live in that house again."

"Well then Mother, sounds like we've got work to do then," I said putting a hand on her shoulder, "more than likely I'll probably end up doing some random task for the viscount. It's a gift I have."

Mother smiled at me, "thank you, dear."

I grabbed Carver by the arm now and took him aside and with a hushed voice I said, "Don't tell Mother a single word about where I'm going tonight. Got it?"

"Yes, yes, Sister. Try not to get captured by templars." He rolled his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

"So…uh," Varric said to me as we walked through the darkened courtyard of the Chantry, "why are we not at least bringing Aveline?"

"That, my dear friend, is because Aveline," I replied watching the shadows carefully, "is up for promotion, and if she gets caught up in this mess, what do you think might happen?"

"Good point," Varric sighed, "why couldn't you leave me at the Hanged Man too then?"

"Because we're partners!" I said gleefully as we walked up the chantry steps.

"That looks like Blondie, over there." Varric said pointing at a silhouette near the chantry door.

"Blondie?" I asked, "isn't that a bit…common?"

"Good, you're here," Anders said spotting us, "I saw Karl go inside a few minutes ago. No templars so far."

"We didn't see anyone suspicious out here," I nodded, "let's get this over with as soon as possible."

"All right," Anders replied, "I'll handle the talking, you watch for templars."

We entered the darkened chantry, the only source of light coming from the flickering fire dancing on the red candle wax that lined the walls as we walked past.

"He should be up these stairs." Anders said pointing to the right stair case leading up to the balcony.

Dread filled the pit of my stomach as we followed him up. Not a good sign.

"Anders, I know you too well," a cold even voice said, "I knew you would never give up."

Shit. Even I knew what kind of emotionless voice that belonged to. Shit. Shit. Shit. Well, Carver, I guess it's your show.

"What's wrong?" Anders asked in disbelief, "Why are you talking like—."

"I was too rebellious, like you," Karl said turning around, earning a gasp from Anders, "the templars knew I had to be… made an example of."

"No!" I heard Anders shout as I watched the shadows behind us.

I could see the flickering of movements. Yep. Stupid shit should have listened to me.

"How else will mages ever master themselves?" Karl asked, "you'll understand, Anders. As soon as the templars teach you to control yourself."

"This is the apostate." Karl as templars moved out of the shadows.

"No!" Anders cried in anguish, causing me to turn around and glance at him.

He was on the floor, doubled over he started to glow.

Great. More surprises.

"You will never take another mage as you took him!" he shouted in another voice getting to his feet and glaring at the templars with glowing blue eyes.

Why am I here again? Right. Maps. Not that it'll matter if we get captured.

We fought in the dark. Varric using the light of flung spells to help him aim at a target. We waited for a moment after we heard the last templar fall. When we were greeted with silence, we finally allowed ourselves to relax out of our battle stance.

"I…Anders?" Karl said suddenly, emotion crept back into his voice, "what did you do? It's like…you brought a piece of the Fade into this world."

"I could stand to know what you did too," I said surveying the mess, "not the Fade bit, the angry glow-y bit."

"It's like a gateway into the Fade inside you," Karl said looking at Anders searchingly, "glowing like a beacon."

What the hell are we going to do to these bodies in the Chantry? They're templar bodies, so…ugh what mess have I stepped into this time? Should I burn them? How has no one heard any of that fighting?

I sighed and rubbed at my forehead trying to think of a way to deal with this mess.

"I have…some unique circumstances, yes," Anders admitted, "but Karl, what happened? How did they get you?"

You daft bastard. You're really asking that? You told me not six hours ago that the templars _knew of your plans to free him_ what did you seriously expect to happen?

"The templars here are far more vigilant than in Ferelden," Karl explained, "they found a letter I was writing you… You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the color, all the music in the world, gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I'll never be whole again."

"Hawke, I'll get some of my contacts to get rid of the bodies, before anyone finds out," Varric whispered watching me sigh heavily," so don't you worry about getting found out here."

"Please, kill me," Karl begged, "kill me before I forget again! I don't know how you brought it back, but its fading!"

"Karl…No…" Anders said sorrowfully.

I'm not going to say anything here; I was more than a little peeved about this whole mess.

"I got here too late," Anders continued, "I'm sorry, Karl. I'm so sorry."

"Now! Quickly! It's fading…" Karl's voice lost its emotion again, "why do you look at me like that?"

I watched Anders walk up to Karl, sorrow and pain contorting his face as he killed Karl.

I let out a deep breath and smoothed my hair back, "a witch once told me this: 'Without an end, there can be no peace.' She told me this after I killed Aveline's husband, I suppose she meant it to comfort me, and even though she was a dragon morphing scary witch, there is some truth to those words."

I sighed, as I recalled the moment, it didn't exactly help much when she had continued it with 'It gets no easier. Your struggles have only just begun.' So I deigned to leave that bit out.

"Anyway, we should leave." I said after a bit of awkward silence.

"Yeah…" Anders replied softly as we started to silently slip out of the Chantry.

"So, let me guess," I said as we returned to his clinic, "this is the part where you tell me where you're an abomination?"

"You're wrong," he replied, "but not far wrong. I… This is hard to explain"

"Well it's also hard to explain that a dragon swooped out of the wilds roasted a few darkspawn, turned into a witch, and saved my life," I said crossing my arms over my chest, "so try me."

"When I was in Amaranthine, I met a spirit of Justice who was trapped outside the Fade," Anders said looking down, "we became friends, and he recognized the injustice that mages in Thedas face every day."

"Let me guess then: you became his host so he could live outside the Fade?" I asked raising my brow.

"We were going to work together, bring justice to every child ever ripped away from their mother to be sent to the Circle," Anders continued, "But I guess I had too much anger, once he was inside me…he changed…"

I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. Fighting the gut reaction I carried that would have blurted the word 'hot' from my mouth.

"That really didn't look like a happy, benevolent spirit from where I was standing." I said still fighting against myself.

"Since when is justice happy?" Anders countered, "Justice is righteous. Justice is hard."

"Justice is also a concept that everyone views differently." I replied flatly.

"But my anger…" Anders said electing to ignore me, "when I see templars now, things that have always outraged me but could never do anything about... he comes out. And he is no longer my friend Justice. He is a force of vengeance, and he has no grasp of mercy."

"So I take it you can't really control it?" I asked raising brow.

"No, he comes out only when I've lost all power over myself," Anders frowned, "it's a madness, a frenzy. I only find out after what I might have done."

Wonderful.

"Here, these are the documents I have for this area," Anders said handing me a few papers, "I can understand if you would rather me not join you personally, I cannot control my need for vengeance. I would not ask anyone to take on the danger of travelling with me. I will be here in my clinic if you have need of me."

"Thank you," I said offering a soft smile, "well Varric, I'm sure we have something or other to do tomorrow, so what do you say we head back now?"

"Way ahead of you, Hawke." Varric said over his shoulder, he was already half way to the door.


	7. Chapter 7

"Good morning," I said after washing my face, "Lord Carver."

"Nice to see you're not in the Gallows," Carver said rolling his eyes, "we're still a long way from cowing templars with our titles, Sister, and you know it."

"You could slap on a smile for a few days, you know," I frowned, "for Mother's sake."

"She's not interested in what I think," Carver said turning away from me, "she wants to provide for us, and you're making sure it happens, and when we're done, I don't know, I guess we'll sit around thinking about how great we used to be?"

"You don't have to be such an ass all the time you know." I frowned.

"Mother didn't even want that life back until we got dumped here," Carver continued, "and you only care because we're under templar scrutiny."

"I don't _only_ care because we're under templar scrutiny," I replied, "you hating everything I do is really losing its charm you know."

"Sure, make light," Carver turned back towards me, "why take anything seriously? You're the eldest, you lead by default."

"I don't see you taking the reins," I countered, "you think I like being the one everyone turns to when shit goes down the drain?"

"And when should I take the lead?" Carver shot back bitterly, "when I'm following you around or when I'm stuck caring for Mother while you tame mighty Kirkwall?"

I was about to say something back when his next words hit me with the weight of a hundred bricks.

"Besides, we both know what happens when someone leaves dear sister's protection," Carver said, "I'm sure Bethany would appreciate that you're keeping good humor."

His words rang through me like a hollow bell. I clenched and unclenched my right hand furiously, glaring at the damn thing. I bit my lip, hard, grounding myself.

"Fun's fun, but you're taking this too far." I warned.

"What?" Carver asked, "You don't like someone making a joke out of everything you are?"

"I don't see the humor in digging up Bethany so you can hide behind her, too," I hissed, "you always complain about being stuck behind my shadow but what efforts have you _ever_ made to leave it besides whining, bitching, and moaning?"

Carver looked down, refusing to meet my eye. I clenched my hand into a fist so hard my nails bit into my palms painfully, grounding me even further.

"Well," I said turning to walk away, "good talk."

"Sister," Carver called out to me, "I feel…I don't know… like Mother is taking everything out on us. She was just scared. I don't have a place in the life she's trying to bring back. I'm here if you need me, but I must find my own way."

"I honestly wouldn't have it any other way, Carver." I replied.

I knew better than anyone how much Carver longed for his own place in the world, and I, despite how it looked; was trying my damnedest to help him find it. I sighed, and glanced down at my right hand again.

He was right though, it was my fault Bethany died.

Carver and I walked to the Hanged Man together; we didn't say a single word. Our earlier conversation still weighing on us even as we pushed open the tavern doors.

"Well, Lucky, I'll tell you what," a dark skinned woman told a group of men as she drank at the bar, "since the information you gave me was worth nothing, that's what I'll pay you."

"Me and my boys will get our money's worth, bitch." The man said slamming her cup back down as she raised it for a drink.

"Oh, you poor, sweet, thing." She cooed moving her other hand to his before jerking it away and slamming his face into the bar a few times.

We just walked into a small bar fight. Great, I couldn't deny that the woman could move though. I mean she just beat three of them on her own. Damn.

But I had to go talk to Varric, I left Carver in the lower part of the tavern and went to Varrics suite.

"So, I've been dying to know: what was going through your head when you fought that ogre?" Varric said turning to me as I entered.

I inwardly flinched, "For the first few seconds, 'What do they feed those things?'"

That was a lie. A really, really, really big lie. I was actually thinking: Well, I guess this is it, I hope I'll be able to buy everyone enough time to get to safety, and I hope they'll be able to make it without me.

But, of course, fate had had other plans for me.

Varric laughed though, "I don't know anyone else that's even seen one. You're lucky just to be standing here. Somehow, Hawke, I imagine things won't be dull with you around."

"That can be both good and bad," I replied, "I mean sure that means we'll never get bored, but sometimes…sometimes you just want some peace and quiet, you know?"

Varric laughed again, "sure, when you're old and yelling at kids to get off your lawn."

"I suppose that's true." I laughed.

"Anyway, I don't expect the Deep Roads to be boring, since the constant threat of doom does tend to keep you awake." Varric said.

"A lot of things can keep you awake, you know," I said raising a brow, "I wouldn't reach for the doom first."

"Sure, I could have a cup of tea in the morning," Varric replied, "but I hear it's bad for you. I've spent my whole life in Kirkwall. Dangerous enough most days, but it doesn't compare to the Deep Roads. So, this'll be…let's call it an adventure. I guess."

"So, now we're adventurers?" I grinned.

"Whatever brings the sovereigns in," Varric replied, "have any work in mind for the day?"

"Meeran sent me a few letters about work," I replied thinking about the mail I'd gotten, "There was also this one from a prince of Starkhaven asking to kill a bunch of people from some assassins' guild or something."

"A prince of Starkhaven?!" Varric asked laughing, "that'll probably be a powerful ally."

"I know right?" I replied as I walked down to the lower part of the tavern with Varric to collect my brother, who was standing beside that dark skinned woman at the bar.

"You're new around here, aren't you?" she asked turning to me after ignoring my brother, "Welcome, and keep your wits about you."

I was so going to hear about this later, I could tell from the look on my dear brother's face.

"You're nothing but tits and ass to the men in this place," she grinned at me, "and they won't hesitate to grab at both."

"Sounds like you speak from experience." I said returning her grin.

"After a few broken fingers here and there, they got the idea," she laughed, "I'm Isabela. Previously 'Captain' Isabela. Sadly, without my ship, the title rings a bit hollow."

"I'm Hawke, Marian Hawke." I replied.

For some reason, my first name suddenly sounded so strange and alien, even to me.

"You're Ferelden, aren't you? You have that look about you," she said, "I was in Denerim not too long ago."

She stopped and studied me for a bit, eyeing me up and down.

"See anything you like?" I asked raising a brow.

"You know, you might be just what I'm looking for to solve a little problem I have." She winked.

"Oh? You too?" I laughed.

"Must be something in the water," she chuckled, "someone from my past has been pestering me. I've arranged for a duel— if I win, he leaves me alone. But I don't trust him to play fair; I need someone to watch my back."

"Just watch your back?" I asked, "I can do that."

"Oh, I'll bet," She chuckled, "I've arranged to meet Hayder in Hightown after dark, I'll meet you there."

Right, time to think of what I currently needed to do:

1. Talk to Hubert in the Hightown Market sometime during the day, probably any day.

2. Help Isabela at night in Hightown, today.

3. At some point locate a dwarf named Anso in the Lowtown market at night.

4. Hike up Sundermount and talk to the Dalish.

5. Kill Flint Company Assassins

6. Locate a mage in the Gallows named Tobrius about the letters I dug out of the estate.

7. Maybe check the chanter's board?

8. Check up on Anders? Maybe?

I think that's everything I currently need to do…

I guess, since it's still around noon, I can go talk to Hubert in Hightown, and then check the chanter's board, maybe do some light shopping until nightfall, and then help out Isabela.


	8. Chapter 8

"There you are," a frustrated sigh rang out from the shadows, "I've been here for hours. Hayder hasn't shown up, no one has. I don't like this."

"What!" I blurted out, "we just walked past here an hour ago and you weren't here!"

"Well, maybe," Isabela rolled her eyes, "you weren't looking hard enough. It doesn't change the fact that I don't like this."

"I don't like this?" Varric asked, "That's right up there with, 'what could possibly go wrong?'"

"That's the wench we're looking for!" A woman's voice yelled as she ran up to us with other armed people in tow, "gut her!"

And of course a fight broke out, should I really be using magic in the streets of Kirkwall? I mean, sure it's dark, but spells kind of have this bizarre tendency to…oh…I don't know…glow? Father did teach me a bit of sword work before he passed on, maybe I should invest in one. Hm…decisions… Oh but then Carver would whine, bitch, and moan about how he wouldn't be able to get out of my shadow again.

Let's see, Carver's pride…or Gallows… I'll think about it later.

"Help me search the bodies," Isabela said as she knelt down over one of the corpses, "Hayder sent them, so there's a chance that there might be a clue somewhere."

"It looks like he's hiding in the chantry," I said after coming across a note stuffed into one of their pockets, "why does everyone meet in the Chantry at night?"

"Good question," Varric muttered, "yesterday it was mages and templars, and today it's Rivainis and Antivans."

"Coward," Isabela sneered, "He'll not get away with this. Come on."

And off we went towards the chantry, Carver and Varric in tow as we maneuvered through the dark Hightown Streets.

"Carver, eyes off her ass." I hissed at Carver as we stepped into the darkened Chantry.

"Isabela! Should've known you'd have found me here." a man, I presumed to be Hayder, said as he stepped out of the shadows.

"Tell your men to burn the letters next time." Isabela replied.

"Castillon was heartbroken when he heard about the shipwreck," he said with a scumbag smile, "you should've let him know you survived."

"It must have slipped my mind." Isabela said shrugging slightly.

"Where's the relic?" Hayder said fixing her with a hardened stare.

"I lost it," she replied simply, "Castillon's just going to have to do without."

"Lost it? Just like you 'lost' a ship full of valuable cargo?" Hayder asked glaring.

"They weren't cargo, Hayder," she retorted, "They were people!"

"Those slaves were worth a hundred sovereigns a head, and you let them scurry off into the wilds!" Hayder said pacing angrily, "and now the relic's gone too, Castillon won't be happy to hear that, I promise you."

"Castillon sounds like he needs to learn to relax a bit," I commented dryly, "I mean if you get angry every time a plan goes wrong then what's the point?"

"There's only one way to settle this." Isabela said narrowing her eyes.

And before I knew what was what a dagger had been thrown and we were fighting.

"Stab first, ask questions later?" I asked after the fighting was over, and the Chantry floor was once again covered in blood and gore.

"Trust me, its better this way." Isabela replied.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," I raised my hands in defense, "I merely approve of that method."

"Oh," Isabela said turning to look at me, "Castillon won't hear about me from Hayder, but he'll find me eventually. I just have to get him the relic, simple as that."

"Treasure hunting?" I asked with a bemused expression.

"It's the best kind of hunting," Isabela grinned, "well…one of the best kinds of hunting."

"Can I be counted in?" I asked, "I do love a good treasure hunt."

"Well, I still don't know where it is," she admitted sighing, "but, you'll be the first to know if I hear anything. Anyway, thanks for helping me out with Hayder. I think I'll tag along for a while, there might be something I could do for you."

"I'm sure there might be," I grinned.

"I suppose I'll see you in the Hanged Man later then, hm?" Isabela asked sliding her arm around my shoulders as we walked out of the Chantry.

"Of course," I said and bumped my hip into hers purposefully, "also, good work with setting the slaves free."

"Thank you for not asking about every detail of what happened." She replied.

New Best Friend: Acquired.

"Mind if I call you Izzy?" I asked.

"You can call me whatever you like, Sweet Thing." She grinned.

"Oh, Maker." I heard Carver practically rolling his eyes behind us as we strode out into the night an arm thrown over each other's shoulders as we talked on our way to the Hanged Man.

"Actually, since it's not that late yet, mind helping us out with a job really quick?" I asked looking up at the position of the moon.

"Lead the way." Isabela smirked and groped my ass.

"Are you Anso?" I asked a lone dwarf in the lowtown market place.

He practically jumped out of his skin, and I felt horrible.

"Sweet mother of partha!" he said turning towards me, "You can't just run up on someone like that!"

"I'm sorry; I didn't think I'd startle you that much." I said sympathetically.

"My apologies, human," Anso said rubbing the back of his neck, "I haven't been on the surface very long and I keep thinking I'll fall up into that sky any minute!"

This dwarf… is adorable. I want to hug him. I really really want to hug him. That would probably be rude though, so I shouldn't. But Maker, this dwarf is adorable.

"Bartrand used to be like that," Varric snorted turning to me, "got jumpy every time he stepped outside."

"I'd pay to see that." Carver and I chuckled in unison.

"Dwarves are funny." Isabela chimed in.

"Are you…the one that mercenary was talking about?" Anso asked, "The one looking for work?"

"I am," I nodded, "though don't you think it's a little dangerous for a solitary dwarf to be out alone in Lowtown at night?"

I was seriously concerned, what if something were to happen to this dwarf?! He was terrified enough as it is!

"I need some help, rather badly, in fact," Anso said sheepishly, "some product of mine has been…misplaced. The men who were supposed to deliver it decided not to. If you retrieve my property, I could reward you handsomely…?"

A question…?

"Just what did these men steal?" I asked squatting down so I could look him in the eye properly.

"Did I say steal?" he said awkwardly, "I don't know if I would go that far. They seemed like perfectly reasonable smugglers. They smiled and everything! The goods are valuable, however. And illegal and my client wants them very, very, badly. You know how those templars can be."

"You're smuggling lyrium to the templars?" I asked a brow quirked.

"Of course he is. That's just bloody great." Carver rolled his eyes.

"Shh! By the Paragons, not so loudly!" Anso said panicking, "my word! I'm not cut out for this, I should have taken that job sweeping stables like Mother insisted."

"I'll get it back for you." I said firmly with a nod.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Anso said straightening up, "The gentlemen conduct their business at night in a little hovel within the alienage. If you have to kill them, then I guess it can't be avoided, but I'll sure they'll be reasonable!"

"Well, let's go then." I said standing and turning to the others.

Once we ran past Gamlen's hovel to the steps of the alienage I stopped.

"Just so we're clear," I announced, "I'm ninety percent sure, that we're being set up."

"Then why are we helping him?" Carver grumbled.

"For starters, I'm not certain," I said, "and also because I want to see who came up with this elaborate scheme."

"Are you sure you're not being led into a trap by templars?" Carver asked rolling his eyes.

"Quite, judging by his body language and word choice, I highly doubt this has anything to do with either lyrium or templars," I replied, "it felt like he threw in those clues to either throw us off, or to fill in a blank. So I'm fairly certain, that we'll run into neither."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Hawke." Varric sighed.

"I never do." I grinned at him and continued forth into the Alienage.


	9. Chapter 9

"Aww…" Isabela frowned, "an empty chest is like an empty bed. What a waste!"

"I thought you didn't like dragging me into situations where you'd be ambushed by templars, Sister." Carver groused.

"You're here," I sighed, "because I'm quite certain that there are no templars."

"There's probably going to be an ambush waiting for us when we walk outside anyway." Varric muttered.

"Indeed!" I agreed, "So let's be prepared, ey?"

We left the hovel that was grodier than Gamlen's and just as we had predicted, there people surrounding the entrance.

"That's not the elf," A woman spat, "who is that?"

"It doesn't matter!" one of the others replied, "we were told to kill whoever enters the house!"

"See?" I said looking at Carver over my shoulder, "not templars. Slavers."

"Because that makes thing _so_ much better." Carver replied as the fight broke out.

"MAGES DIE FIRST!" I shouted after noticing a spell whizz by.

Probably not my smartest moment, I earned the anger of all of our enemies, since I too, was a mage. Ah ha ha ha…whoops.

I was wheezing after the fight. I haven't had to dodge, block, and run like that in a fight in a long time. I inspected my staff worriedly, there were a few cuts in the wood but it'd hold up for a while more. I sighed in relief as I leaned on it.

"I really shouldn't shout for us to kill the mage first like that in a fight." I said panting heavily.

"Yeah, that was pretty stupid," Isabela agreed, "I had to peel off the mage and try to lessen the amount of people going after you at some point. Though I don't really blame them for going after you."

Isabela groped my ass here.

"In that case, I'm surprised more people weren't going after you," I said raising my brow, "let's go figure out who started this mess."

We walked towards the steps of the alienage, and another man was standing there.

"Great." Carver grumbled.

"I don't know who you are, friend, but you've made a serious mistake coming here." He said glaring at us.

"What? You don't know who I am?" I said in mock hurt, "but you just called me your friend! And now you're going to either have us killed or sold into slavery? What about all we've been through together?"

"Lieutenant!" he shouted, "I want everyone in the clearing! Now!"

Nothing happened.

"Uh…you okay there buddy?" I asked.

"Lieutenant!" he shouted again.

Staggering footsteps echoed from behind him.

"Cap…tain…" a man covered in blood gasped before collapsing to the ground.

"So much for your reinforcements?" I said tilting my head.

"Your men are dead," another voice said, "and your trap has failed. I suggest running back to your master while you can."

I felt my breath get caught in my throat. That voice was literally, sex. Are people really allowed to have voices like that? That's not fair. That should be illegal. I'm definitely going to be speaking to Aveline about this tomorrow morning.

And then I saw him, an elf with pale shimmery white hair, and olive skin with white markings. This is another thing that should be illegal; no one should be allowed to look like that. Seriously.

He was standing in front of me, looking me in the eyes. Those eyes! Incredibly not fair. Foul play. I wanted to call for a time out.

"You're going nowhere, slave!" the man growled angrily, grabbing the elfs shoulder roughly.

"I am not a slave." The elf growled, glowed, and shoved his hand into the other guy's chest.

Wait…glowed? What is with me meeting glow-y people lately? Is this something that's becoming more and more frequent? Is this a trend I should be aware of? Oh dear, how far am I behind the times?

Oh he's looking at me again. He needs to stop that. Like, really needs to stop that.

"I apologize," he said, "when I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I had no idea they'd be so…numerous."

"Hah!" I blurted turning to Carver and jabbed him roughly in the chest with my finger, "See? Not templars! Take that loser."

"You were also right about the set up thing." Varric added dryly.

"Ah, yes. Take that too then," I said jabbing him in the chest again.

"Why are you hitting me for your small victories?" Carver grumbled shoving my hand away as I went to jab him in the chest again.

Because I need to hit someone. That's why. Otherwise I'm going to go crazy. I settled on repeatedly punching him in the arm lightly, and luckily, he sensed that this was just something he'd have to accept me doing, and didn't push it.

"It's quite all right," I said turning to the elf still hitting my brother, "we face this sort of thing daily."

"Impressive," the elf replied, "My name is Fenris. These men were Imperial bounty hunters seeking to recover a magister's lost property, namely myself."

Oh, Maker that voice. I was torn between my want for him to stop talking and keep talking at the same time.

"They were trying to lure me into the open," Fenris continued, "crude as their methods were; I could not face them alone. Thankfully, Anso chose wisely."

"That seems like an awful lot of effort to put into finding one slave." I replied.

He probably thought I was an idiot, standing here, abusing my brother while trying to have a normal conversation. Smooth, Marian, smooth.

"It is." He replied.

"But you're not an ordinary slave, are you?" I asked and tilted my head, "does it have something to do with those markings?"

"Yes, I imagine I must look strange to you," he replied, "I did not receive these markings by choice. Even so, they have served me well. Without them I would still be a slave."

Oh. Shit. He probably thinks I'm hitting my brother to vent out my disgust at looking at him. Ohshitohshitohshit. I stopped my assault on my Carver's arm immediately, and he moved his other hand up to rub the spot I had been punching with a roll of his eyes.

"So…wait…" I said putting a hand up, "Let me get this straight, we just thwarted a plan to recapture an ex-elven slave?"

"You did." He replied un-sure of why I asked that.

"When you tell this story," I said turning to Varric, "…actually I'll leave the embellishments up to you. But, if possible leave out the part where I beat up my brother out of anxious embarrassment."

"And the part where you basically fawned all over the elf, right?" Varric asked with a raised brow.

"Shhhht!" I hissed flailing my arms in a panic.

"Perhaps the deception was unnecessary," Fenris said grabbing my attention, "if so, I am sorry. I have become accustomed to hiding. If I may ask: What was in the chest? The one they kept in the house?"

"It was empty." Isabela cut in, frowning as she leaned on me, draping an arm over my shoulder.

"Relax, Kitten," she whispered into my ear with a grin, "though I don't really blame you. That voice is delicious."

"I suppose it was too much to hope for," Fenris sighed, "even so, I had to know."

He looked so sad I felt my heart shatter.

"You were expecting something else?" I asked.

"I was, but I shouldn't have," he said looking dejected, "it was bait, nothing more."

"All that for an empty chest?" I jested lightly.

"No," he replied sternly, "there's more."

He walked over to the dead body of the captain that I had forgotten he killed in quick strides and ruffled through the dead man's pockets.

"It's as I thought," he growled, "My former master accompanied them to the city. I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he flees. I will need your help."

I'll do anything you ask me to if you use that voice, is what I almost blurted out. Surprisingly, I managed to keep that bit to myself.

"Sounds like it's going to be a long night." I said with a small laugh.

"I will find a way to repay you," he replied, "I swear it."

Don't… Don't say that! I screamed inwardly.

"The magister is staying at a mansion in Hightown," he continued, "meet me there as soon as you can. We must enter before morning."


	10. Chapter 10

Isabela, didn't fancy a return trip to Hightown, so she had ditched us as we walked past the Hanged Man.

"Varric," I muttered with a yawn, "don't expect me to be fully functional tomorrow."

"My glorious Sister," Carver stated with a snort, "crumbles when she gets less than six hours of sleep."

"It's true," I nodded, "I really do."

"Didn't you used to live on a farm?" Varric asked raising a brow at me.

"I sucked at living on a farm." I replied.

"No one has left the mansion," Fenris said when we finally figured out where the damned mansion was, "but I've heard nothing within. Danarius may know we're here. I wouldn't put it past him."

He spat out the name Danarius like it was something I had cooked.

"I could stand to know a little more about this Danarius," I replied, "since we're gonna invade his house and kill him."

"He is a magister of the Tevinter Imperium." Fenris replied.

"Oh, is that all?" Varric asked with a laugh, "nothing to worry about then."

"Except maybe my Sister falling asleep in the middle of a fight." Carver muttered and I elbowed him in the ribs.

"There, he is a wealthy mage with great influence," Fenris continued, "here, he is but a man who sweats like any other when death comes for him."

"Well, what's the worst that could happen?" I asked with a shrug.

"Hawke, you know I hate it when people say things like that." Varric chided me.

"While I do not fear death," Fenris replied, "that does not mean we should be reckless."

"Then you probably hired the wrong mercenary," Carver rolled his eyes, "if my sister is anything: it's reckless."

"That's so not true!" I retorted, "I can be careful."

"Hawke," Varric said putting a hand on my arm, "who are you trying to kid?"

"I can be careful." I repeated with a huff as we followed Fenris into the mansion.

And not thirty minutes later, I was eating those words.

"So, who can be careful?" Carver asked after I had tripped the second or third trap since walking into the damn place.

I could only glower at him and pout in response.

"Gone…"Fenris sighed dejectedly after we cleared the last room of shades and demons, "I had hoped…no. It doesn't matter any longer."

Ahh there goes my heart, shattering like a dolt again. Good job me.

"I assume Danarius left valuables behind," Fenris said, "take them if you wish, I… need some air."

Well, this place does smell musty and dusty and musky and dank.

"It never ends," Fenris said as he heard us leaving the mansion, "I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it hunt me at every turn. It is a plague burned into my flesh and my soul. And now I find myself in the company of yet another mage."

I really should be used to disappointment already. I mean, seriously, I'm an apostate. Obviously, finding someone who understands is going to be hard as shit. To be honest, I'm actually a little surprised even Aveline has tolerated me. I'd expected her to have thrown me in the Gallows by now.

But I guess it's from acceptance from someone who had even married a templar that made me too soft. Man…Sorry Carver, but having grandkids for Mother is most likely going to be your duty.

"I saw you casting spells inside," Fenris continued walking over to us, "I should have realized sooner what you really were."

"Oh?" I said tilting my head giving him a blank look and pointing at my face with both hands, "So you realized that I'm a person?"

"What manner of mage are you?" he asked glaring at me, "what is it that you seek?"

Not gonna drop the mage thing then. All right.

"You want me to tell you and spoil all the fun?" I pouted, "Hmm, what manner of mage am I? What manner of mage am I…?"

I tapped my chin thoughtfully and thought about it for a bit.

"You know, I've never really given it much thought," I replied honestly, "something to ponder, certainly, and to find out as I go along. For now though, I think I'll continue to march to the beat of my own drum. Unless you're planning on having me thrown into the Gallows…"

"You are skilled," he admitted, "I know that much."

"If you have a problem with my sister," Carver said glaring, "then you have a problem with me."

"…Carver…" I said and threw my arms around him, "I always knew you actually did care."

"I imagine I appear ungrateful," Fenris said apologetically, "if so, I apologize, for nothing could be further from the truth. I did not find Danarius, but I still owe you a debt. Here is all the coin I have, as Anso promised."

I stared at his hand holding out the coin from behind Carver's shoulder.

"I don't want it." I said firmly.

"Sister." Carver said sternly.

"You don't want it either." I glared at him.

"But the expedition." Carver glared back.

"But if he gives us everything he has, how is he going to buy food?" I asked pouting, "or warmer clothes for the colder months? Or a place to sleep? Or other things?"

"Eh…We can probably make enough sovereigns without robbing the elf blind." Varric agreed.

"That's that, so you're keeping it." I said and took his hand, silently slipped some of my own silver into it and curled his spike-y armored fingers around all of the combined coin and pushed it back at him.

"But I insist…" he said trying to give it to me.

"If you give it to me I'm going to spend it in the stupidest way I can think of." I said firmly.

"Which is what?" Carver asked me with a raised eyebrow.

"I can't think of anything besides 'give it to Gamlen,' right now," I frowned, "probably because I'm tired."

"No, that is probably the stupidest way you can spend it." Varric said rubbing his at his forehead.

"Oh, well there you go then." I said turning back to Fenris.

He sighed and withdrew his money clad hand.

"Should you find yourself in need of assistance," he said and bowed his head slightly, "I would gladly render it then."

"Really?" I blurted, "You didn't seem all that thrilled with me a moment ago."

"You are not Danarius," he replied, "whether you are anything like him remains to be seen."

"Are you sure you want to volunteer to help us?" Carver asked him, "She'll more than likely bug you with obnoxious questions later."

"You're rather rude you know." I said narrowing my eyes at Carver.

"Rude and honest." Carver replied.

I grabbed Varric's arm and gestured to the both of us.

"We're planning an expedition to the Deep Roads, with his tit of a brother," I said pointing at Varric for the brother part, "We might need help with it, if you're not too busy. Or something."

"Fair enough," he replied, "should you ever have need of me, I will be here. If Danarius wishes his mansion back, he is free to return and claim it. Beyond that, I am at your disposal."

"First order of duty then!" I said practically hanging onto Carver's shoulder by now from exhaustion, "Someone…Carry me home."


End file.
